


You have me howling at the moon

by Couragecomesfromwithin



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Don't worry he isn't a furry and he isn't a werewolf, F/M, Not that kind of fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8752942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Couragecomesfromwithin/pseuds/Couragecomesfromwithin
Summary: There is something about that primal sound that one finds rising from a mans chest that you just can not ignore, and neither can your body.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this may or may not have spanned from several evenings of reading werewolf fanfiction on Wattpad and also watching and finding Eddie EXTREMELY hot in 'nature of the beast' despite all the fur... fur, no fur the man is delectable either way :P but I have found that this 'growling' is something that some people do, and others can find rather..eh..'appealing'

* * *

 

Toby had this funny little thing about him Happy discovered. She fully believed she was quite possibly only person in existence who knew of it. That Tobias Merryweather Curtis was an animal, a true beast. At first she had been quite puzzled by it and would laugh softly behind a smile, he seemed to have no real realization that he would do it.

 

It had first occurred after Toby's curiosity had gotten the better of him and had decided to purchase another copy of Quincy Berkstead's book. They had been alone in the garage their relationship still in its infancy and with the clingy nature of Toby's personality he had decidedly pulled up a chair close by to where she was tinkering away on her bike, Happy would be lying to say that his quiet company was unwelcome.

 

She smirked as he would snort and scoff with every few flick of the pages, she could practically hear his eyes roll in his head several times over as he read the published words of his rival.

 

It when there had been no sound from his direction for quite a considerable period of time that Happy thought he had most likely put down the heinous book, maybe realizing that torturing himself with it truly was not worth the satisfaction he hoped it would bring. She couldn't help but wonder why after so long, and now being supposedly happily with her, the man still played on Toby's thoughts. Did he think of Amy too? Was the relationship with her not all he had anticipated and envisioned it would be? Why did the opinions and views of two people of whom should be of no significance now still weigh on him?

 

The insecurity and doubt she had dreaded raising it's head made her heart sink, she wanted whatever was with Toby to work, to last. She didn't want to suffer the fears that had resulted in to many a heartaches again. Not with Toby.

 

She had just set down her screwdriver and about to twist round to look round at him when the sound made her freeze.

 

It was low and guttural, risen from the deepest part of Toby's chest. The low bass of a growl.

The sound made something flutter within Happy, she turned on the balls of her feet slowly. His lip was curled in a snarl and his eyes blazed as he focused solely on whatever portion he was reading.

 

Maybe he had always done it, maybe it was new. Happy couldn't tell she only knew the sound awoke something in her. She came to understand the differences in the sound, from when he was frustrated and when he was displeased, from when he was teasing and when he was..something else altogether. She could note the sound given the situation. There was that one specific rendition which made her toes curl. One she had discovered only a few weeks after the first rumble.

 

She recalled the first time she actively could recall the instance, Toby was squabbling with Walt again, goading him about Paige. Walter snapped at the bait set in front of him with out fail. The tension between the two unwavering despite the need to work together during the case, the snipping and sniping between had all around wishing to bash their heads together. He stalked into his apartment with her trailing after, he was muttering and growling under his breath, she had wondered if it was probably wiser to call off their evening and give him his space but as she had stood pondering the decision he had pulled at her roughly, soldering his lips to hers, backing her up against the door with such force she was practically on her tip toes, high pitched moans escaping her as she reciprocated his intensity. His lips had moved to her neck and collar, sucking and nipping. She drew her nails through his hair, his hips bucked against her as he growled and bit at the space between her shoulder and neck, she gasped and ground against him. She had never considered this from Toby, he was usually so relaxed and tender in his actions when it came to initiating intimacy. She was usually the more pushy party. His hand that had come to land on the door was moved, tracing across her hip and between her legs. She was grappling at his shoulders, if he kept the friction he was creating up she would soon be falling apart up against the door.

 

And she had, several times over.

 

They were now at the point where she almost expected that kind of intensity from him in the evenings after an eventful day, a day which often left them _all_ twitchy and adrenaline fueled- what the rest of the team did with the energy Happy didn't know, probably utilized it on their work and projects.

 

Where Toby's energy would have previously been spent at the tables, such evenings now consisted of the couple engaging in activity which gave a  _constructive_  outlet to them both. She loved the sweetness of making love with Toby, where he was soft and slow and made time and the pace of her thoughts slow to the point where all she could think of was what she could feel, but the occasional change of sweaty, heated, passionate evenings of which always had Happy falling back upon the bed, panting hard and feeling like she had run one hell of a marathon, It was exciting and exhilarating and wholly satisfying when she too was in equal need of tapping into the primal need of sex. He really was incredibly quite the paramour when the desire indeed took him.

 

It had somehow progressed to a daily part of life for him, he was becoming more aware of doing it but it didn't stop him, it became a part of their private life that as he would growl at her she had taken to growling back. He grinned, both parties growling back and forth until he, or she..usually _he,_ was pinned to the sofa, the bed or a fair few times the floor, having smirked and walked away playfully desiring the dominating last word, till she took the bait giving chase and taking him down, straddling his hips rubbing herself against him as he would hiss fingers twitching from the sides of his head where she held them down.She would bite at his neck and scruff, her voice low and husky as she lowered her mouth to his ear. “you gonna back down now, Doc? You going to submit?”

 

Depending on how the effect took him and how long he could stand to continue the teasing game he would sometimes fight it, fight her. Bucking his hips, growling in response, try to flip them so he had the power, he had yet to succeed. Other times he would give in right away, bearing his neck with a huff so she would chuckle darkly placing kisses along his neck releasing his hands as to move them to tangle in his hair as she sucked on his pulse point making him arch and claw and paw at her hips a whine escaping him as she would move her hands to tug at the front of his pants.

 

Sometimes she would forcibly stay on top, in control and keep things painfully slow just for the desperate, shuddering reaction that it inflicted on him. How he would try to sit up, how he would try to roll them, how he would beg and plead her for her to move and rock harder, faster, let him have his release and give her, hers, to even let him touch her. The confidence and trust such nights allowed her to feel had her walking on air and flushing deep red upon remembrance for days.

 

Then there were the times where she relinquished her control, let him lose on her body, how her mornings were then spent covering and counting the bites and bruises from the intensity of his hold as he let all his inhibitions go. The hours spent on the floor conjoined as one and making enough noise to warrant a complaint- the kitchen floor had never been kept so clean and she had never felt so bonded.

 

 


End file.
